Tuesday, 15 May 2012

Calcutta summer is not the time for profound thoughts.
Excessive sweat, stingy public transport and Glucon-D shots does not make a
rosy picture. The heat plays tricks on your mind. My toleration level for
almost everything normal was always low (however, I had mastered the art of
tolerating major and minor irritants masquerading as people, till finally good
sense sought to prevail) and summer blues have plunged them into dangerous
thresholds.

Yet, for all it’s worth right at this juncture I am without
an institution. College has literally chucked me out that was quite evident
when I handed over my library card (which, by the way, I was fond of using till
I got with it a Franz Kafka, after reading which I had an eye infection- not
that one needs to trace a philosophical causal relation into this one).

So basically I’m a free bird now. But then, what can a caged
bird suddenly kicked out do? I realise I should have been more cool in the last
three years, but then that’s a streak I am deficient in, amongst other pertinent
social skills.

Studying history has given me a strict sense of writing with
an introduction, a body with adequate jargon and a conclusion that does not
quite gel with the rest, but is written because some blighted fellows believed
it’s good to conclude. As if every situation in life was worthy or unworthy of
a conclusion. My penchant for writing what the lay men call crap has also been
inundated with such specific technical jargon that makes way for boring
readership. Ah, well.

Three years of college can make one realise that one can study
without gaining a substantial amount of knowledge, but one can grow a talent to
make up for it, by imparting, through lectures of various degrees garnished
with high sounding intellectuality that sounds rather cool but has very little
hint of substance in it. Yes, if nothing else, three years of education can
teach one how talks in the highbrow language of intellectuality and at the same
time become a pedantic pain in the posterior. I know, it’s a wonderful skill
that shall hopefully get me a long way.

With age one comes across varieties of individual, to most
of whom I am the aforementioned pain in the posterior. But it’s a mutual
phenomenon, which balances the whole thing and makes me believe in the cosmic
balance of pain in the hind shared in this world. This deep philosophical
understanding can get one a long way. However, in the process, one finds beings
akin to oneself, and one finds solace in that.

All in all things have been pretty nice so far. Yes, I am
ebbing towards the Grand conclusion that they say is pertinent for good writing
skills. Well, I’ve never had any, so now that I’ve finished with all the randomness
that I wanted to express, I shall leave it, inconclusively.